


La Tortura

by LadyVisenya



Category: Logan (2017) - Fandom, Wolverine (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hate to Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 18:20:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10576893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyVisenya/pseuds/LadyVisenya
Summary: Deciding to save the children was easy. Getting them out was the hard part. Then you still had to get them away for good. Mikaela agreed to the plan. Now all that stands in her way is Donald Pierce.





	1. Eyes Wide Open

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> takes place about a year before the events of logan.

My abuelita had always said if something sounds too good to be true to run the other way. But money was tight. And with her now sick and all the bills to pay, I had to accept. 

It did sound good. Nothing like the other American companies that treated their Mexican workers like shit, finding ways to pay them less, skimping on the safety regulations if there even were any. At a fifteen hundred pesos a month, it was a way too good to be true. 

I still said yes. Green and desperate and straight out of nursing school, I said yes. 

“You must be Mikaela Santos,” the woman that met me said. “I’m one of the head nurses. Nurse Lopez, but you can call me Gabriela.” She handed me my key card, and had me shadow her. At first it was just taking down reading, but there was something undeniably wrong here. The children were dragged around by armed men who would take cattle prods to them if they didn’t obey. 

It didn’t take long to figure out they weren’t conducting drug trials. These were kids, mutant children. They didn’t deserve this. 

No one deserved this. 

It took all myself control to help hold them down; inserting needles just to cause pain, watching children cry for help that would never come. I don’t know how anyone could do this. I didn’t know how anyone could find this entertaining like our head of security. 

Pierce was always the first one to manhandle them even when the cooperated. 

I wanted to out, but by then I was in too deep. 

I couldn’t leave in good consciousness knowing that I had left those children behind to suffer. They were so small and trusting, eyes aways wide in surprise when the needle pierced their skin. Face full of betrayal when you didn’t help them. 

What could I do but stay and try to make them less miserable. 

“Mikaela,” my grandmother said when I told her, “que te dije mija.” Her eyes hard, as her hand shook, unable to keep still. 

But what could I do against a huge american company. 

It never got easier.

*

I carefully wrapped Rictor’s arm.

After today’s latest rounds of testing, his arm had been sprained in putting him down. He had been trying to keep them off another girl. 

Pierce stood by the doorway, “for protection sweetheart.”

I held my tongue, knowing he would only take it out on Rictor. 

“Now, try not to move your arm to much or it will heal wrong,” I told him, trying to draw his attention to me. “And take longer.” I patted his head. 

He went still under my touch, unused to human affection, eyes wide with surprise. Rictor was so small for a twelve year old. He had always been small for his age. All the testing didn’t help. 

“That’s enough,” stated Pierce, pulling Rictor roughly by his arm. He marched Rictor out the door and I followed them out and back to the main rooms. “How many times do I have to tell you Mikaela,” he spoke, amused. If I hadn’t known him, I’d have thought he was joking around. “You don’t have to talk to them like their people.” 

I pursed my lips. It didn’t matter how often I’d heard it, it still made me sick every time. 

He noticed, tsking before shoving Rictor through the door and in with the other children. I followed him in, glad that Pierce didn’t follow. 

“Estas bien,” I asked Rictor, helping him stand. 

The boy’s gaze was trained over my shoulder. 

“Ignore him,” I whispered, knowing it was Pierce. “Now go sit down and rest.”

Gabriela was reading to Laura, the youngest. It was a comic. 

The rest of the children spread out, playing with their few things. A set of off brand legos between the twenty-three of them. A handful of action figures rotated around. Less then a hundred books. 

I had grown up poor, most of the money going to pay overdue bills and buy food. But my abulia had always made sure I had never wanted for anything. 

“Just a sprain,” asked Gabriela when I sat down by her, watching Rictor sit down with Bobby and Delilah. 

“Si. Thank god,” I answered her. It could have been worse. It had been worse. When they were hurt, they were more vulnerable. It left them at the mercy of the Reavers. 

“Veras visto a el rubio cuando te tiro Rictor para ayudar a Rebecca,” she told me, letting Laura flip through the pages of the comic book. She had caught on to reading easily. 

“Stop it,” I told her, ready to go home for the day. Just three more hours, then it was the night shift would come in. 

The night shift was easier since the tests were run in the day, but the hours were longer. 

“I didn’t say anything,” Gabriela said.

“Laura no.”

Laura had taken to ripping up the book, tearing it to shreds with her bare fists. At least she didn’t let her claws out. 

Had they been normal mutants, their mutation wouldn’t have been triggered till they hit puberty. But Dr. Rice had figured out how to trigger it faster, through stress and pain. 

I pushed back the memory. It wasn’t helpful to think about. 

“Oh, Junel asked if you could cover her shift tomorrow,” Gabriela said, having put Laura in a time out, “I know it’s your day off. But there’s no one else.”

“Sure,” I nodded, already regretting saying yes. I was not a late night person. And I would also have to miss the dance tomorrow. 

I sighed, “No problem. But it better be important.”

“Her brother is getting married. Tomorrow is the wedding.” 

“There’s always a party happening with her.” 

Gabriela laughed as we got up. It was time to look them back up in their rooms. That was always the hardest. Leaving them in a padded cell with a hard bed and toilet and nothing else. 

Most of them were barely older than eleven. They had already seen so much. They had already suffered so much.

It was all I could ever think about on my way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> abuela/abulita means grandmother  
> estas bien means are you okay  
> que te diji mija mean what did i tell you daughter  
> veras visto el rubio cuando te tiro rictor para ayudar a Rebecca = You should have seen the blonde when Rictor knocked you down when he went to help Rebecca


	2. Nocturnal Creatures

The air was frigid in the facility. It was worse at night and my jacket did little for my legs that were covered in goosebumps. 

I had brought Misty Copeland’s book to read in-between rounds. It hadn’t yet been translated into spanish, but I couldn’t wait to read it. And my english could use some practice. 

That was the nicest part about the night shift. I only had to go look in the cells once every ten minutes, check on the children, and then wait another ten minutes. It could get tedious, but it was easier than watching the doctors and scientists hurt them. It was easier then helping hurt them.

The guards were in the lounge instead of patrolling around looking for an excuse to kick something.  One or two would do their rounds every so often. And that was it. 

It was loads better then having them hovering about, always underfoot. 

We rotated night shift around ourselves, since only one nurse was needed, the rest arriving early in the morning. 

Today, Sofia wouldn’t arrive until four in the morning. Till then it was just me and the guards. 

I set a timer on my phone, and tried to concentrate on reading the words on the pages. 

My english was good, but reading english was a whole other thing since I never practiced. 

My brain tired of trying to translate everything in my head and my eyes would glaze over the words. It was hard to concentrate. 

I sighed getting up, and walking through the corridor. 

By torchlight I checked into each cell. Delilah and Rictor quietly snored, letting me know they were asleep. Bobby, Charlotte, and Aiden were on their beds. I stood there long enough to make sure they really were asleep. Laura was always tricky. She rarely slept in her bed, preferring to curl up somewhere hard to see or reach. 

After a few moments I found her in the corner under her bed, staring back at me. 

“Esta bien, sleep,” I told her, ignoring the rule about calling the guards to sedate them if they weren’t sleeping. 

She kept staring back at me, unblinking. 

I let her be, moving on to the other cells. Gabriela was the only one who could get her to do anything. 

*

After making sure all the kids were asleep, I went back, ready to attempt to make my way through another page. 

The silent and dark corridors always made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was the set up of a horror film, right before something jumped out and killed me. 

I ignored the feeling and kept walking. 

It would have been so much easier if I had just given in and taken a nurse position at the clinic instead of here. I had never even wanted to be a nurse. But it was years to late for that. 

Pierce was waiting for me when I got back, draped in the chair I had been using. 

“They behaving,” he asked leaned back, as if this was a friendly conversation. 

For such a sadistic man, Pierce was undeniably attractive. Not even the stupid skull on his throat or gold tooth ruined it. All faux smiles and perfect bone structure. 

I rolled my eyes, shrugging, “They’re asleep.” 

“Must be boring.” 

“I find things to do.”

“Like reading,” he said motioning to the open book on the desk. 

I leaned against the desk, crossing my arms against my chest. I hated when he tried to make small talk. “Yeah.”

“Didn’t know anyone knew about ballet down here.”

My patience ended. 

Americans were always like this, looking down on us like we were stupid. I had gone to nursing school and they still treated me as if I didn’t know anything. Treated us all like that, pretending these was all drug trials and not something worse. 

“We have ballet here Mr. Pierce. Just like in the United States. And as you can see we also have books too.”

His smile turned sharp at my tone. “There’s no need to be so formal Mikaela. We’ve been working together for years. Call me Don.”

I had never invited him to call me Mikaela. That was reserved for friends and people who didn’t enjoy hurting children. 

“Its time for another round. Mr. Pierce,” I said, turning my back on him. It hadn’t been ten minutes yet, but I couldn’t stand being in the same room as him anymore. 

I heard him come after me. 

“Don’t be like that baby,” he muttered, barring the way forward. “Just being friendly.” 

I don’t want to be your friend. “It’s fine.”

“You have to let me make this up to you,” he said with a smile on his lips, “let me buy you a drink. My treat.”

“It’s fine, really. You don’t have too,” I said stepping back, putting distance between us. 

“Really, I insist.” 

“Maybe another time,” I relented, wanting him to go away. 

“Raincheck then Mikaela,” he said letting me pass by. 

I ignored him and the voice of my abuela in my head telling me to be polite. It was a relief when I walked through the doors, not really checking whether anyone was awake. 

I waited a good ten minutes before leaving. 

Thankfully Pierce had left. 

Now I could get back to reading. 

*

The night went by in ten minute intervals. I barely noticed when Sofia came in, sitting down next to me. 

“Quiet night?”

“Si. Everything was fine,” I told her as I took the cup of coffee she offered me. I was running on muscle memory, going through the motions. Rubbing my eyes, I offered her a smile and a thank you. 

“I don’t know why Junel likes the night shift so much,” Sofia said. “After two, I’m dying to go to bed. No coffee can help me.”

“She’s crazy.”

I watched the clock, willing time to pass by faster. 

Usually I’d have already taken my break this far into my shift, but I preferred to wait and just get out early. It was going to be a miracle if I didn’t fall asleep on my way home. 

The worst part was having to come back at two in the afternoon. 

June owed me. 

When Gabriela arrive I bolted out the doors, signing out, ready to call a taxi. I was dead on my feet. 

Gabriela merely shook her head before, grabbing me before I left and saying, “I need to talk to you later.”

“Later,” I said waving her off. “Right now I need sleep.”

Satisfied, she let me go.

I didn’t make it to my bed, falling asleep on the couch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	3. Mad Bad Plan

It was insanity. The whole thing was insane. And even if somehow it worked. Even if we managed to get the kids out, there were still the reavers. 

We were all going to die. And that was if we weren't caught first. 

I agreed to help. 

There was only so much I could take before doing something. These kids didn't deserve to be killed. They weren't things. They were people too. And I loved them. After working here for years, I loved these children like they were family.

Gabriela had a place to take us all, and Canada promised safety. Or at least we were hoping it would take us all. Asylum was what we were all betting on. But between us and safety was escape and the states and- 

Worry about that later. Right now worry about my own part in the crazy plan. We needed a master key which only senior level management would have.   The only people who were here often and had them were Pierce and Dr. Rice, neither of whom would just give them to us.

Gabriela and Maria had clearly thought this through. It was a rough plan, but if it worked, it would have been worth it.

I had to somehow get the master key from Pierce. He had always been easiest on me. 

Gabriela snorted, "ese querie meter se en tu cama."  

My skin flushed red as I rolled my eyes and took the comic book from her, tired of hearing this. The comic had our meeting point if we were split up.

"Don't," I said, heading to cell X-11. I put on a smile, entering Rictor's room. Calling it a room was being generous. “Come on bud, gotta get up now.”

He snorted as he followed me out, “I’m not five anymore.”

I glanced back at him. No, he wasn’t. He only had some hints of baby fat left. The first signs of acne had appeared on his skin. “You’ll always be five to me,” I told him. That small boy that would crush my hand when he was picked and prodded at.

“What’s on the list for today?”

“Just a physical and checkup.” I had always explained to him as much as I could about what they were doing to him. He deserved to know, even if he couldn’t stop it. 

I offered him a bottle of water before we drew blood. It was nicer like this, when they just let me do it. It was less of a fight. Rictor was compliant. 

“You’re tired.”

“Didn’t sleep much,” I shrugged, “but don’t worry about me.”

It’s a quiet day. The tests are minimal, mostly physical exercise. It’s still horrible. They don’t let them go until they fall down from exhaustion. 

I hear about Laura trying to rips someones head off, again.

By six I’m already dying from exhaustion. My eyes sliding closed even as I walk around, checking on the kids. Rictor holds court as usual, everyone spreading out around him. As the oldest, the rest usually follow him. It helped that he was always ready to throw himself between any of his sibling and the staff here. 

He glances at me every so often, his expression worried. 

“I’m fine,” I mouth back every time. Only he would be worried about me when he should be worried about himself. 

When he was younger, he would cling to me, fingers digging into my skin as they ripped him from my hold and tossed him into a cell. He would scream and cry and I would have to watch, unable to go to him. 

It had kept me awake at night. 

Back then, all the nurses would fight over night shift. 

I jumped as someone laced their hands over my shoulders, scowling with annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, can’t help but notice how tired you are,” Pierce said, rubbing my shoulders. 

It felt nice even as I shrugged out of his grasp. “Not used to working doubles.”

“Go home Mikaela, get some rest,” he ordered, “can’t have my best girl falling asleep.”

Remember the plan, I told myself, trying to keep from scowling. “Are you sure? I only have two hours left.”

“Go,” he repeated, amusement on his lips, “and don’t make me tell you again.”

I nodded, and turned to leave. 

*

I barely remembered my trip home, my body exhausted from standing all day. Even in my nurse’s shoes, the ugly old things, my legs ached. 

“Hola abuela,” I called out, once I got home. 

“Ay mija, I was just thinking about that old song you used to practice all the time.” She was sitting by the table, peeling carrots. “Would you mind playing it for me?” I was always surprised at how white her hair had gone; how many wrinkles coated her skin. 

“Did you take your medicine?”

“Of course,” she said. I didn’t believe her. She was of the mind that god would take care of it. It didn’t seem to matter what I or any of the doctor said. 

I grabbed my violin from the living room, and started to play an aria riddled with mistakes. I was too tired to play well. Fingers slipping onto the wrong string. 

It was soothing, playing again. I rarely had time to practice anymore. 

“What did the doctor say today?”

“The same thing as always.” 

“And are you going to listen this time?”

She finished peeling the vegetables, throwing them in a pot, “The doctor is crazy if he thinks I’ll stop eating tortilla and carnitas.”

I sighed, knowing that arguing with her would do little good. “Wake me up when the food is ready.”

“Llevona.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> llevona = lazy  
> es se quiere meter en tu cama = that one wants to get into your bed  
> thoughts?


	4. Wolves and Girls

Gabriela never actually told me who was in on the plan or what the whole plan was. It was all on a need to know basis. I hadn’t been this stressed since filling out my college application. 

On the surface, nothing seemed to have changed. But now we only talked to the kids in english. Now everyone was on edge and it didn’t help that they had slowly dialed back the training sessions where they’d provoke the children until the used their powers to fight. 

Rictor knew something was different. His eyes held questions that he didn’t dare voice. 

I could only offer tight smiles, unable to bring myself to give him hope that could so easily be taken away. The facility was all they knew. Armed men and doctors poking and prodding at them. 

This was the right thing to do. 

It didn’t help reassure me as I kept watch.

I shifted nervously, trying to keep myself calm. It was all too easy to imagine what they’d do to use. Images of dead bodies dumped in sewers floated through my mind as I watched the hall.  

Sofia had better hurry up. 

There was a file down here that Gabriela had asked us to steal; slip it in our unflattering scrubs and leave. Make it through all the security between us and the door, easy. 

It was Dr. Rice’s day off. Security should be busy wrangling the children. It was the best time to sneak down into the higher security areas. Papers normally under lock and key could be opened with an override. 

We had just waited for an alarm to go off as the children fought back against the Reavers and then opened the door. 

Now I was just waiting. It was killing me. Nothing to do but wait. Unable to do anything but pray no one came down here. 

I leaned against the wall, hoping to look inconspicuous, wringing my hands together. 

This file better be damn important. 

I paced without noticing, freezing again the darkened window, probably bullet proof. Like it would really stop Laura or Charlotte. 

Dense smog covered the city as always. 

A soft click told me that Sofia was out. 

“Let’s go,” she said, waving me over. 

I followed her out, back to the second floor. The whole time I kept looking her over, trying to find out if she had gotten the files. 

“Relax,” she whispered, “you look like your about to pass out.”

“I think I am,” I muttered. “Oh no, the dark, it’s-“ I continued, hand against my face like in the soap opera my grandmother always watches. 

Sofia rolled her eyes, smiling, “Still look like shit though.”

I shrugged, “fuck off. I didn’t give you any shit for the crusty makeup. Wash your face.”

She stuck out her tongue at me. 

Classic Sofia. 

We walked into a puddle of blood and lots of angry yelling. 

The reavers were knocking Laura, now stunned, into the floor, boot on her back keeping her down while Gabriela administered a tranquilizer. 

I swallowed, not looking down. Not letting myself look down. 

“Help me carry her,” Gabriela yelled at us.

I ran over to help her, but Pierce stuck out her arm, barring the way. “Sam can carry it _after_ he cuffs it.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Sofia said, looking over at Gabriela. We were all tense. There was no knowing what they’d do to her for killing another one of them. 

Pierce simply smirked at her before giving the reavers the go-ahead. 

Gabriela followed as they dragged a limp Laura back to her cell. Sofia squeezed my hand before following at her heels. 

I let them leave, ready to try and clean the mess on the floor up. The stench of blood had to be pushed back with disinfectants strong enough to burn skin. It was going to be hours of soaking up the blood and pouring more disinfectant over the mess. 

“If you’re just going to stand there, you might as well help,” I called out. I could feel Pierce’s stare as I tried my best not to gag at the stench of chemicals. 

“Looking a little green there darlin’,” he replied, smirking as he watched me work.

Play nice, I told myself. I needed him to make this work. 

“I’m not fond of blood.”

“I hate to tell you this,” he said, smirking, “but you’re in the wrong business baby.”

I rolled my eyes, “well aware of that P-Donald.”

His eyes glinted as he heard me use his name for once, running his hand through his hair. “So how about that drink?”

“I’m more of a coffee person,” I replied. It was easier to flirt when I wasn’t interested and nervous about someone I liked. “Does Thursday night work for you?”

He nodded, gaze trained on me even as I cleaned up the blood of his dead man. “Well then, I better leave you to it,” Pierce said, looking out of place for once in his quasi-military clothes. 

I nodded, offering him a small smile. Men were such fragile things. They needed lots of encouragement. It had been something my grandmother had told me before having the most awkward conversation known to man with me. 

Great, I told myself. Now I had to spend time outside of work with that asshole. That was my Thursday night gone. And the worst part was having to come up with an excuse to tell my grandmother. 

I swallowed, choosing to focus on cleaning Laura’s latest attempt at splatter art. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the slow update but midterms just happened and uni is slowly going to kill me. thoughts?


	5. Put your lambskin on.

I was somehow not surprised that Pierce drove an asshole truck. 

He has insisted on picking me up from home, not taking no for an answer. I was surprised to find that I was nervous, changing multiple times before deciding on an outfit. 

“You look nice,” he told me, as I got in. 

I tucked my hair behind my ears. “What did you expect? I can even make scrubs look decent,” I replied feigning confidence as the weight of the situation dawned on me. I was in over my head, and there was no way to go but forward. 

My reply elicited a chuckle from him. Pierce cleaned up well, looking better in jeans and a t shirt than most people do. His shoulders relaxed for once. 

The drive to the cafe was quiet. I was at a loss for what to say, sneaking glances at Pierce every now and then. His gaze was focused on the road. I would have thought him a reckless driver. 

Pierce opened the door for me. 

He pulled out the chair so I could sit down. 

If not for the tattoo, my grandmother would have loved him. 

No matter how long I read the menu I couldn’t focus, my thoughts sliding to the man sitting in front of me. 

Pierce kept playing with his ring, turning it along his finger. 

“What’s with the ring,” I asked, putting the menu down, “it makes you look like a tool.”

He grinned, “Boy do you have a mouth on you baby.”

“Still haven’t answered my question,” I said, raising an eyebrow, smiling right back at him. It was easier if I just thought of this as a normal thing rather than some fucked up part of an insane plan. 

“I won it in a bar fight back in Texas,” he told me. “I was a fucking mess when I was younger. The cops brought me home more times than I can count.”

“Can’t say I relate,” I told him, “Never been in a fight. Never ditched class. I was so boring.”

“I don’t think you’re boring.”

“Well not now,” I replied, winking.

He laughed with his whole body, eyes crinkling, face lighting up. 

I ordered the second cheapest thing on the menu, and nachos for the both of us. He ate most of it. 

“So if you’re so scared of blood,” he said between bites, “how come you end up as a nurse?”

“I’m not scared,” I yelp. “It’s just gross.”

“Sure, baby. Whatever you say.”

“I was going to go to college,” I start, “but then my grandmother got sick and we needed the money for her medicine, so I just got certified as a nurse. Short and cheap career. Terrible hours though.”

“I’m sure it ain’t so bad.”

I look over at Pierce, “No. Not at all.”

“It’s not like I was good enough to study music anyways. All practice and no talent.” I shrug, stealing the last chip from his reach. 

“Hey,” he quips, all bark and no bite.

He pays the bill, saying “I got this” when I offer to pay. 

The city’s nightlife has picked up by the time we leave, street performers out in droves, collection jar on the ground. The sky is bloodshot with smog. 

“Come on,” I say, dragging him along with me. “There’s always something to see.”

Pierce follows me along, offering little in the department of substantial conversation. 

“When I was still in school, my friends and I would come put on dances and plays out in the street,” I tell him, “stopping when we had made enough money to go buy enough snacks for a small army.” 

“Papitas con chile y limon is where it’s at.”

I look over at him. Pierce looks out of place among the colonial architecture and worn down streets. His skin littered with freckles. 

“My spanish is shit,” he admits, “almost a decade down here and still can’t say more than a few words.”

“Americans,” I say, shaking my head. “Never bother to learn anything but english.”

“English is the language of the world baby,” he grins. 

I roll my eyes. 

“Besides, I was too busy running wild and making moonshine to go to school. I cut so many classes, wasn’t sure I’d graduate. What really pissed my teachers off was that I was still passing with flying colors,” Pierce told me. He leaned against a wall, watching a man juggle. His robotic hand tapping against the stone. 

“AC/DC,” I asked, recognizing the tune. 

His eyes lit up, “Yeah.”

“I bet you fit in great with all the rednecks down in Texas-was it?”

“Hey,” he protested, “there’s no need to be like that.”

I rolled my eyes at him, lips smiling with amusement. 

“You keep rolling your eyes, they might roll back into your head Mikaela.”

“Is that supposed to stop me.”

We walked back to his car to the sad story of what happened to my first pet chickens. My first and last pet chickens. 

“Didn’t even get to eat them.”

“Oh shut up,” I protested, making his arm. It probably hurt me more than him, being nothing but firm muscle. 

I fiddled with his aux cord on the drive back, never letting a song play for more than a few before playing another once until he ripped the phone from my hand. 

“You gonna break it sweetheart.”

“But there’s so many good songs!”

It was actually really nice. He was so easy to talk to and I hadn’t really stopped smiling all evening once I stopped overthinking things and just let myself be in the moment. Pierce’s signature smirk had softened into a soft smile over the course of the evening. 

His gold tooth glinted in the streetlights. It was charming on him. 

I found myself sort of sad to arrive home so quickly. 

He parked by my house, a small green house tucked away between two apartment buildings. I wasn’t ready to go. 

“This was nice,” I said and meant it. “We should do this again.”

Pierce grinned as he looked over at me, “Only if you insist baby.”

I rolled my eyes, then leaned over and kissed his cheek. His stubble scratching at my lips. 

Pierce stilled against me. 

“Oh I do.”

His lips pulled into a smirk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	6. interlude.

They were training them again. 

No matter how many times they failed to make the children do as ordered, they always instead on forcing them to use their powers in increasingly violent ways. 

I ran my hand through Rictor’s hair, ignoring the indignant look on his face. 

“Don’t make this worse,” I told him, knowing anything I said was pointless. Who was I too judge what he did, after what had been done to him. 

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.”

“I believe you,” I whispered as they let him into on of the rooms. Soundproof. Bulletproof glass. Thick walls. All for their benefit. Not too protect anyone, but to keep them from escaping. 

I felt useless as the instructors goaded Rictor, forcing him to fight back. He was just a boy, and it never got easier to watch. 

In the end they had to knock him down to get him to stop. To keep him from hurting the instructors back. 

“Sh,” I whispered, soothing him. Trying to calm him down, my fingers running through his hair. It was better than letting them drug him. “It’s okay, you can stop now.” The words were hollow. Non of this was okay. 

Rictor relaxed against the floor, the fight going out of him. Looking so small and fragile between the two Reavers holding him down. 

“Let him go,” I ordered, “He’s done.”

A gunshot echoed from the corridor. 

Lucas shot by with security running him down. 

The two reavers left us to follow. 

I looked over at Rictor, helping him up. “Vamos,” I said. 

We ran to the window, trying to find where they had gone. My heart beat wildly in my chest. I wanted nothing more than Lucas to make it out of here. 

I grabbed Rictor my the shoulders. 

“Do you think-“

“Sh,” I hissed. There was no way to know who was watching. I nodded anyways, a lump in my throat. 

Rictor was fighting under my hold. 

We watched as Lucas fell from the roof, his body hitting the pavement. 

Rictor didn’t need to be told that he wasn’t going to make it. He wasn’t even moving. 

I couldn’t breath. 

And then Rictor was screaming, tears running down his eyes. The walls and lights and everything not tightly secured giving way to his wrath, to his pain. 

I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him against me. 

The reavers charged down the hall, trying to get at him. 

I held him against me, like I had when he used to wake up screaming, wanting to keep him from them. 

His blasts held them at bay for minutes before they started dying down, energy sapped. His breaths were shaking and labored. 

“Sh,” I whispered, tears falling from my own eyes. “Estoy qui.”

The Reavers approach dos carefully, cattle prod set to stun, stretched out in front of them. Rictor’s blasts lost their initial strength. 

I cradled him in my arms. 

The Reavers slammed into us, grinning as the tackled Rictor, slamming him to the ground. The sound echoing throughout the corridor. 

I was knocked aside, leg stinging where I hit the linoleum floors. My hand on fire, probably sprained. 

I knew better than to say anything. They wouldn’t listen to me anyway. Sadistic fuckers. Wiping the tears from my eyes I went to follow as Parker and Ward dragged Rictor by the legs, but Pierce stopped me. 

“Mikalea,” he said stroking my cheek, “Are _you_ alright? Did he hurt you baby?” 

I nodded, unable to form words, a choked sound coming out instead. 

Lucas was dead. 

Lucas was dead. 

And Rictor-

“Sh,” he said, his hands on the side of my face, metal cold against my skin. “Wait for me in the infirmary.”

I nodded, feeling hot and cold and raw and I couldn’t stop crying. 

Pierce kissed my temple before going after the Reavers and I felt disgusted at how much I missed his touch. Comforted by a murder of all things. 

I shoved my feelings aside, going on autopilot. 

It wouldn’t matter. Once I got the master key from him, and we escaped, he’d hate me and hunt us all down. 

I swallowed, comforted by the inevitable.

It was easier to hate someone when you didn’t know how kind they could be. 

Sofia was already in the infirmary, howling over a body, white sheet draped over. Gabriela held her, security looking on in disgust. 

One of the doctors, Dr. Kinney, was already down here, barking orders. Lucas might have been a child, but he was also an experiment and now they would defile his corpse the same way they had in life. 

I slipped my hand into Sofia’s. 

She had lost a son today. 

We watched them roll the body away. 

“Take a break and then do rounds Nurse Sanchez,” Dr. Kinney said, “We don’t pay to stand around.”

Gabriela’s face twisted in anger, but she stayed by Sofia’s side, coaxing her to go someplace more private. 

Gabriela sent me a hard look as Pierce walked in wrapping his arms around me, hugging me against his chest. 

I looked away and took in the warmth and smell of him, my body cold against his. It was the shock. It didn’t make it any easier. It didn’t make the pain of it go away. 

“Come on,” he murmured, “let’s get you out of here.” 

Pierce dropped his coat over my shoulders, leading the way. 

My voice was all wrong once I could finally speak again. “I-“ I paused before trying again. “Where are we going?”

“You can rest at my place if you want,” he offered, his hand never leaving mine, “or I could take you home.”

I said nothing, watching him, taking in the set of his mouth, how his eyebrows were scrunched up. His eyes flickering over to me, as if checking that I really was all right. 

Curling up and sleeping sounded good right about now. 

His apartment was sparse, reflective of a workaholic with only a few things to denote that yes, someone actually did live here. 

“I feel like shit,” I said, as he showed me the bed, pulling back the blanket. 

He snorted, “And look like it too.”

I smacked his arm, “You’re supposed to say that I look amazing. Beautiful. Never bad.”

He rolled his eyes, worry etched into the lines of his face. “Lay down and rest Mikaela. I’ll be outside if you need anything.”

I gripped his arm, “Stay,” relaxing against the mattress. “Stay with me Don.” 

And he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at me, actually updating quickly again. thoughts?


	7. We kiss ourselves to pieces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut warning.

“He keeps looking at you,” Rictor muttered under his breath.

“He always does that,” I said, “Ignore him.”

“No,” Rictor said, shaking his head. “It’s different now.”

I swallowed, careful to avoid his searching gaze. 

“You can do better,” Rictor spat.

I blushed, wanting nothing more than the ground to open up and swallow me whole. 

“It’s not like that,” I said, trying to say everything I couldn’t in my tone. Trying to tell him about the plan that even I didn’t know much about other than my role in it, as if he could get it all from my expression. 

Thankfully, he let it go. 

“Dr. Kinney is dead. Laura killed her.”

“I heard.”

“She waited for revenge.”

“Life is more than revenge,” I told him. It hurt that it really wasn’t for them. Life was just survival and vengeance to these children. “One day you’ll know what I mean.”

Victor studied me carefully before saying, “Gabriela says that too.”

He noticed more than we gave him credit for. But I wouldn’t put them in anymore danger than they already were in. 

“Well she’s right.” I ruffled his hair. “I promise.”

*

The only thing I didn’t like about dancing was how sweaty it made me. All sticky and gross after spending a good hour on my makeup alone. 

“Don’t think about it,” I laughed at Don. 

He was so stiff and not into it at all, so I plied him with a couple shots. 

“This is a deal breaker babe,” I told him leaning in close, “you have to like dancing.” 

The music was loud, and the lights were bright red and orange. It was some local band, probably the cousin or something of the owner. I liked it here, they played lots of older songs. 

It was easy to lose myself in the rhythm. 

I held Don by the hand, twirling in and out of reach. 

His lips were twisted in amusement, but he just wouldn't go with it. That was always the hardest thing for people, to forget how they looked and just dance. 

Holding his hands I led us to the tune of the music, and he let me. Don followed my pace, watching as I danced, hair loose, eyes closed. 

It was a feeling I only ever got when playing the violin.

“I prefer line dancing,” he uttered into the shell of my ear. 

Rolling my eyes, I responded, “Give me a second,” and went to request a song. The only song I knew that fit that description. 

I found him doing another shot as the first beats started. _El Caballo Dorado._ I could hardly keep up, but everyone knew the steps. A classic.

I pulled him against me, kissing him hard on thee lips before saying, “You better fucking dance _baby._ ” 

He just grinned, running his hand down my back, before falling me out onto the dance floor. 

At this, he was better than me. 

I wasn’t a great dancer to start with, always tripping over my feet, but I was enthusiastic, and nothing could stop me from trying. 

“No rompas mas mi pobre corazón,” I yelled along with everyone else, even as I fell a step behind.

We grinned at each other. 

I felt all bubbly inside, like nothing else mattered, not when we were together. 

We stumbled out of the bar, bumping against each other, my hand on his arm. 

“Let’s go home.”

“That’s presumptuous,” I smiled, not really meaning it. I wanted to steal more moments. I wanted-

“Oh baby,” he replied, “what are we going to do about that mouth of yours.” 

I grinned, “I don’t know. What are _you_ going to do about it?”

He grinned, and kept trailing his hand up my thigh on the drive to his apartment. I ignored him, driving him crazy. 

I didn’t have to be a mutant to guess what would happen. 

Don pressed my against the elevator as we rode up. His body against mine as he trailed kisses up my neck, nipping at the flesh. 

I laughed, giddy with longing. 

My hands ran down his hair, draping around his neck. 

“Come on,” I said, breaking the kiss as we stepped out of the elevator, running down the hall. 

Our laughs echoed down the corridor, dimly lit at this late hour. 

I waited for him, leaning against his door, letting him kiss me hard. His scruff scratching my skin. His body warm against mine. The smell of alcohol and rich earth. 

“We should probably go inside,” I whispered against his skin, cheeks hurting from how hard I was smiling. 

“No ones here,” he whispered conspiratorially. 

“Don,” I yelp, as he squeezed my ass.

I tugged his shirt off, leaving a trail of discard clothes to his room. I ran my hands over his hard abs, kissing the crook of his neck, pulling him down against me on the bed. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me baby.”

“It’s just the lace,” I replied. 

He turned us over so that I was straddling him, hands on my thighs, trailing gently against my skin. 

Don was hard against me. And I realized too late how much of a goner I was. 

Too late. 

Fuck it. 

I leaned against him, kissing him softly, gently. 

His hand brushed against my center, already wet for him. I moaned against him, as he rubbed circles against the fabric of my panties. I gripped his shoulders, not trusting myself to stay upright. 

His robotic hand held my by the small of my back. 

My bra came off, and he pressed kisses to my breasts. I threw my head back, my breath shaky. 

“Don,” I moaned, eyes closed, toes curled. 

Don pulled my underwear down. 

I whined at the loss of pressure against me. My hips thrust down, wanting him. Wanting and wet and full of desire. 

“Patience is a virtue.”

“Oh fuck off,” I groaned as he slid into me, pausing a moment before thrusting. 

Our hips met, and I dug my fingers into his back, pressing down again him. 

Lost in the feel of him against me. 

_“Mikaela.”_

_“Fuck.”_

_“Fuck.”_

_“Don.”_

_“Baby.”_

I came against him. Eyes wet. My chest light. Heady with satisfaction and seeing stars. Don came against me, wrapping his arms around me. Bodies limp against the mattress. 

I rested next to him, catching my breath; waiting to form coherent thoughts. 

“I think I love you,” I whispered, eyes threatening to spill tears. 

“I am that good aren’t I.”

I smacked him against his chest. “You stupid fuck. I just told you I love you. Asshole.”

“Fuck baby,” Don said, “I guess cuddling is out of the question.”

“Oh my god,” I groaned, “Why you?” 

He chuckled, as I curled into his side.  

“Wanna go again?”

“Yeah.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	8. Static and Erratic.

I opened drawer after drawer, careful to put everything back like I had found it. I dug threw his clothes. 

Where was it?

My pulse jumped at every sound. Nerves fried. Don wouldn’t be back for at least an hours, but I still was freaking out. I needed to find that master card. I knew he didn’t have it with him, I’d watched him go, getting called in on an emergency. 

It had to be here. 

But where. 

I was freaking out, the very shadows scaring me. 

Once it was gone, once I had it, it would only be a matter of time before I was suspected. Time would be of the essence. 

I swallowed. 

This was all on me. It had to be done. 

I thought of Rictor and Charlotte and Laura and everyone else and couldn’t-Don would hate me after this. The thought hurt more than I wanted it too.

Feeling under tables and moving the mattress, I tried to pay attention to the door. It wasn’t here. It had to be here. It had to be. 

My hands were slick with sweat and my eye started twitching, the way it once had when a violin string would break. I wanted to throw up. My stomach clenched and flighty and wrong wrong wrong. 

I steadied myself against the wall, slumping down. 

I didn’t know what I would do if I didn’t find it. I couldn’t fail. I couldn’t fail Rictor. I would die for him, and I probably would. 

Again, I went threw every cupboard. For a sparse apartment, there were lots of places to hide things in. At least there wasn’t a safe. God knows what I would do then. 

My breathing was erratic as I grasped at straws, chest constricting. 

I felt a hard card against my fingers and pulled. 

Eyes wide, I stared at the piece of plastic that would free Rictor. The piece of plastic that would free the children. 

Start the clock. 

I sent Gabriela a message. “Me prestas huevos?” 

It was done. Now I had to wait. 

I couldn’t breathe, slipping the card into my purse, sandwiched between a costco membership and old school I.D. 

“Si, ven por ellos? o mejor nos vemos en la plaza?”

Plaza antes de trabajar, I replied. It was always full of people. Inconspicuous. 

I jumped as the door clicked open. 

“Baby, I told you not to wait up for me.”

I gulped, taking a deep breathe before replying, “I couldn’t sleep. What happened?”

“Nothing. Idiots can’t do anything without me,” Don said hugging me against his chest. “Let’s get some rest yeah.”

We curled up in bed, limbs tangled together. My head rested against his chest. I could hear his heart beat, slow and steady. 

“I love you,” I whispered. 

“Don’t get all sappy on me Mikaela.”

“But I do.”

Don sighed sleepily, his eyes drooping, “Love you too baby.”

No matter how long I laid there, listening to his deep breathes, I couldn’t sleep. I was so wound up. My jaw clenched up tight. My shoulders tense. 

It was a relief when morning came. 

I slipped out of his hold, making a bullshit excuse about having to take my grandmother to the doctor before work, before running out the door. 

*

Gabriela was already waiting inside the cafe. 

I sat down by her, asking for some tea, peppermint. 

After adding three packs of sugar, I took a sip, not meeting Gabriela’s gaze. I tugged out the card from my bag, careful to leave the costco membership on top. 

“Aqui esta. You should get your own at some point.”

She carefully looked me over, hair a mess, shirt that obviously was too large for me, before replying. “He’s going to kill you for this.”

I looked away. 

“You think that he’ll remember or care? He won’t.”

My eyes teared up. I refused to cry. “I know.”

“Do you?”

“What now,” I said, wanting to talk about anything else. 

She handed me an envelope. Inside were two visas. Two people. One for Rictor and me. There was a thick bundle of cash. And nothing else. 

“Today. You take him and run for it.”

“I know where to meet,”

Gabriela shook her head. “We can’t all go the same way. It’ll make it easy for them.” She had a small pill in her hand, handing it to me. “Head somewhere else. Lead them away from the group. Then take this.”

“And you?”

“All of us. We have to buy them time. They know what to do.”

I shook my head, tears falling, “They’re just kids.”

Gabriela grasped my hand, “It has to be done.”

I nodded, hands around my tea, pill tucked into my palm. “It’s a good plan.” 

She smiled sadly, “What wouldn’t a mother do for her children.”

*

Walking to your death is a strange feeling. The panic was gone. It was easy. Now that I knew what had to be done, everything was easy. 

I smiled, and played the part perfectly until the yelling and screaming and running and the gunshots as the Reavers sent on us, grabbing at the kids. All their training finally came in handy, just not the way Dr. Rice would have liked. 

It was chaos. And I was running on the pavement. Gunshots flying by. Tires screeched as we made out way aways. 

I desperately searched for Rictor. Looking him over. 

“I’m fine,” he kept saying, but all I could do was hug him. 

Charlotte had here nose against the glass. Rebecca held on tight to Isabella. I looked around for Gabriela, but she wasn’t there. I refused to look back. No one had the heart to count the children who had made it this far. 

We didn’t stop. Driving to the boarder through the day. They took turns looking through the window, smiling. Their eyes on the horizon. 

The boarder crossing was easy. They didn’t ask us any questions, just glancing at the visas. 

The children kept quiet, eyes trained on the guards, tense and ready to strike. They shouldn’t have to be. 

We separated in El Paso. Rictor took the wheel. 

“Take care,” he said, wiping away tears. “And get to Canada. Fast.”

I nodded, lying through my teeth, “And then I’ll make your life miserable. Violin lessons everyday.”

“Promise?”

I nodded. 

After they'd left, and we'd all broken up into pairs, i called my grandmother. She didn't answer. I hope she would forgive me one day. I know she'd understand if she knew why I'd left, just like my father had. 

Sofia slid into the seat next to me, taking the wheel, “Where to?” 

“North towards Washington. Right direction, wrong way.”

She nodded. “They’re gonna make it.”

“I know,” I said, willing it to be true. 

For all their powers, they were just kids.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me prestas huevos - can you lend me eggs  
> Si, ven por ellos? o mejor nos vemos en la plaza? - yes, do you want to come get them or do you want to meet in the plaza?  
> Plaza antes de trabajar - the plaza before work  
> thoughts?


	9. My Only Friend, the End .

Sofia kept munching on crisps as we drove through the night. The sun had gone down hours ago and we only stayed up with the help of coffee. 

I kept calling my grandmother. She didn’t answer. 

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Sofia said, her creamy skin looking waxy from exhaustion. 

Neither of us could go on for longer. The initial adrenalin long gone. We hadn’t even made it out of Texas yet. 

I thought of Don. 

But we pressed on. We had to put as much distance as possible between us and the Reavers. Every mile, every hour we drove was more time. We had to buy as much time as possible for the kids. 

They had to make it. 

“Do you think Gabriela got away,” Sofia asked, knuckles white on the steering wheel. 

“Of course she did.” I refused to think of any other possibility. It wasn’t hard to notice not everyone had made it. But I wanted to believe they had by some miracle. 

Her lips were pressed into a tight line, but she said nothing. 

I called again, expecting it to go straight to voicemail again. 

The voice on the other end almost made me drop my phone. 

“Baby,” Donald said, “That was a very stupid move.”

I swallowed. I didn’t know what to say. There was nothing to be said to make any of this okay; to make any of it go away. 

“Now, let’s not be any stupider. Tell me where they are. Tell me where you are, and I’m sure we can work something out.” 

They were sweet lies. 

“I’d rather die,” I spat. 

“Now baby,” he growled, “If you don’t tell me where you’ve taken the brats, I’m going to have to something you’ll regret.We don’t want that now do we?”

My heart leaped into my throat. “Where’s my grandmother?”

“You first.”

There’s always collateral. No matter what you do, innocent people get hurt. I was as good as dead, and I loved my grandmother, but-

“I already regret every second I wasted on you,” I hissed, voice flat and cold, and threw the phone out the window. Phones could be tracked. I hoped they had tracked us. I hoped they all came after us. 

It would waste their time.

Sofia looked over at me, grasped my hand, and tried for a smile. 

I couldn’t manage one back. 

My grandmother was dead because of me. The woman who had raised me. But I didn’t have the luxury to cry over it. There were still things to do. It would all be over soon.

*

Sofia slept in the back seat while I drove. We had to take turns. We would lose to much time resting in motels or even sleeping in the car. 

I shook her awake at the next small town. 

“Get us something to eat,” I whispered, before going to the bathroom. “Meet back here in thirty minutes.”

Sofia hugged me, her thick arms crushing me against her. She was soft and cold and her smile was off kilter. It had been that way since Lucas had taken his own life. 

“Gabriela will be fine. She’s smart. They’ll make it to Canada. There’s nothing you could have done differently,” she reassured me. 

It was the same thing I kept telling myself. It sounded truer coming from her than in my head, but it was still hard to shake off the doubts. There was just too much to think about and nothing to distract me from my own thoughts. 

Being stuck inside your own head could be the worst thing when all you can think about is what you should have done and what you could have done and it all just makes you feel worse. 

I wanted to sleep. 

Instead I waved her off and looked around for a thrift store. 

It was late, so I had ten minutes to find jeans and a jacket for the bitter north wind. If we even made it that far. We had to take the pill if we so much as suspected we were going to get caught. Alive we might give them information. 

It was nice to think we wouldn’t break, but pain and torture can make people do what they don’t want to. 

I grabbed a green jacket, a little short on my arms, but it was thick and cozy and most importantly, cheap. Settled on a large brown jacket for Sofia. Grabbed the first pair of jeans that looked like they might fit, paid, and left just a minute before they closed. I was that asshole. 

I pulled the jacket on, trying not to think about wether it had been washed recently and waited for Sofia to come back. 

An hour passed. 

Then two. 

After three hours, I had to move on. 

If it had been the Reavers, they would have gone after me in minutes, not waited around for hours. It couldn’t have been them. It wasn’t like them. 

I didn’t want to think about the alternative. 

Throwing the jacket for Sofia away, I drove on into the night. 

Exhausted and having last slept yesterday, I had to get a room in Salt Lake City, Utah. It was small and dingy, smelling of stale sweat and cheap beer. 

The desk attendant was a middle aged lady. Limp red hair, closer to brown than red, with more freckles than I could count. Her shirt proudly told of bike marathons. 

She handed me the key with little fuss. Thankfully ignored the unbidden tears streaming down my cheeks and sent me off. 

I didn’t even kick off my shoes. 

I no longer cared if they found me. This was far along. 

I pulled the pill from the napkin I had folded it up in. It was small and white, hardly a murder weapon. 

I prayed that if there was some god out there, he’d forgive me for taking my own life. One of the few things I remembered from my devout grandmother was that suicide was a sin. But surely, under the circumstances, it could be understood and forgiven. 

I shut my eyes, put the pill on my tongue and swallowed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the end by the doors is a very fitting song for this chapter. thoughts?


	10. Darling, Dearest, Dead.

Dazed, I came to bright artificial light and a beeping monitor. My wrists were bound to the sides of the bed. My body barely able to shift. It tired me out just to lift my head. 

There was an itch on my nose. 

I had tried to kill myself. 

Tranisgen. 

I screamed, trying to get up and failing. I tugged at my wrists, feeling the burt where the restraints dug into my wrists. 

“Hey calm down,” a nose said peering over me. He was young. His hair dark. The light washing out the rich tan of his skin. 

I stilled. Not transigen. 

“Your mother brought you in,” he said. 

I was confused, but when I tried to speak, only coarse whispers came out. 

“Your throat is really sore. We had to pump your stomach. You’ve been out for almost twelve hours. You’ve got to calm down,” he insisted checking my vitals. 

I had to go. They’d be here. And no matter how much I wanted to see him, I had to keep going. 

Rictor. Gideon. Bobby. Charlotte. Rebecca. Delilah. Laura.

Rictor. 

“Let me bring your mom in,” he said. 

I didn’t even know my mother. 

The lady from the motel walked in. She now had spectacles on, thick blue frames that belonged on an eighties nerd. 

“She’s awake now Mrs. Brim.”

“Call me Debbie, please.” She came over to sit by my side, stroking my hair. It was a convincing act. I was just young enough to pass for her daughter. Granted adopted, but still, not unheard of. 

“Oh my poor baby,” she whispered. 

The nurse left, and she sat back. 

“I don’t know why you did it. But you’re young and I couldn’t let you. I couldn’t stand by,” she told me gently. 

I nodded. 

“We’ll be out soon, but you owe me an explanation.” 

I didn’t want more innocents to get hurt. But I had to leave. So I nodded, figuring I would lie to her. Come up with a cliche. Anything but the truth. 

She smiled at me, then said, “I think everyone likes friends, and that’s always on. That sound good.”

I nodded. 

Every person that passed by the room made me panic. How long till they caught up with me and killed me and tortured me until I broke? I didn’t want to give them anything. But how long could I last?

I wondered if Donald would do it himself. I wanted it to be him. It was sick, but I did. As if looking into his eyes would make him realize what a fucked up person he was. As if I could love him into a better person. Maybe the guilt would work. Maybe the guilt would make him kill me quickly. 

I didn’t think so though. He was the type to draw it out, especially after what I had done. Only the people you love can betray you after all. 

*

It was night again when we finally left. 

Debbie drove us to a small twenty four hour diner. There was even a jukebox. She ordered green tea and a short stack of pancakes. “My doctor keeps telling me to cut the carbs and butter but that’s all the good stuff.” 

She poured soup on the pancakes, savoring every bite. 

I could barely swallow. My chest hurt to breath. Hands shaky and cold, I could barely move. The very smell of food made me want to throw up. 

I took small spoonfuls of soup, careful not to slurp. I couldn’t even taste it. But it was warm and something to do. 

“So, what drives a beautiful young lady such as yourself to kill herself? And in a shitty motel to top it off,” she asked. “I’d have gone to a Hilton. Or at least a hotel.”

My lips twitched, amused. “My grandmother died,” I croaked. “She was all I had. She raised me. Taught me everything I know. And now she’s just gone. Then I lost my job. It was just a lot of shit at once-“ I broke of, choked with a sob.

“Oh honey,” she said, her voice tender. “I remember when I lost my Vivian. It was then end of the world. Spent a whole month shut in my house. Ate nothing but cold pizza.” She paused, taking a sip of her tea. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this. I do. Heavens knows how much I hated hearing it, but it gets better.” She placed her hand over mine. “I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but it does. I promise you it does.”

Her tone was so genuine I felt sick lying to her, but I couldn’t risk the truth. Besides, everything I had said was true. Technically. 

“Tell you what,” she offered, “Come back with me. You can help around the motel until you’re ready. That sound good?”

I shouldn’t. It was dangerous. “Okay.” 

*

The motel looked just as dingy as I remembered it. But I could see the effort she put into the place. It was old, but clean. A certain kitschy charm to it, even with the stale smell of sweat underneath. 

“I bought it off some asshole who was laundering money here,” she told me. “It’’s taken work to make it this nice, but I’m only one person. Keeps me busy.”

She put me up in a different room, “we’ll need to cleanse it off all the bad energy.”

I went along with her. 

“Tomorrow bright and early we’ll do carpet cleaning in two or three rooms. I’ve been meaning to deep clean for ages.”

Then she headed to her small office leaving me alone with a poster of the old wild west. It was a puzzle upon closer inspection. At least I had thought enough, held dead from exhausted to ditch the car away from here, by some shopping center. 

Maybe they wouldn’t find me. 

Maybe I would keep my promise to Rictor. 

A year or two and then I might go look for them in Canada. 

I leaned back against the bed and slept. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guys were all so worried last chapter. glad u care. i appreciate every comment and kudos. thoughts?


	11. Wait,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> about five days after the events of logan more or less. smut warning.

The smell of alcohol was the first to go, but only after cans of febreze and incense sticks were burned. And then there was still the stale smell of sweat. Lighter not, but at least the carpets looked lived in instead of ratty. 

It was something to do. 

And after a day or two, it was easy to settle into this semblance of normalcy. It was almost to easy to push the constant threat of the Reavers to the back of my mind. You can only live on the tip of your toes for so long. And I just wanted a few moments of peace. 

It got easier to believe that they’d stopped looking. That the kids had made it. And that I was safe. 

It was stupid. 

Gabriela would have shaken her head at me. 

But she was most likely dead, like my grandmother. 

I went to church, lite a candle for her and prayed. I might not be a believer, but it’s what she would have wanted, and that meant something. I hoped there was an afterlife, one where I could explain. Tell her everything I hadn’t. Ask forgiveness for getting her killed. 

Wiping my eyes I headed back to the motel. 

It was almost fall, and it was already bitterly cold. My nose numb from the biting wind. I shoved my hands into my pockets, hoping that Debbie had made pasta again. 

I had never been a good cook. Rice and grilled chicken breast were the best I could scrap up, but it was enough for me. 

But Debbie loved cooking, her studio apartment always smelled of fresh bread and cookies and whatever she had made for that day. I couldn’t even begin to get my head around how nice homemade bread was. 

We had talked extensively, and Debbie had done so much in her life. Lived so many places before settling down. I was nothing but jealous. This was the first time I had left Mexico City and I was pushing thirty. 

I told her all about my fanciful dreams of ballet and orchestra, and she had found a violin somewhere. It was terribly out of tune, and had two broken strings. But those were easily fixed. And soon I was serenading her with Tchaikovsky and Bach, my favorites. 

It was rough, being somewhat out of practice. 

“I used to practice every day for hours,” I explained. “Since I was eight. I must have been crazy. Other girls were out wanting a horse or to be princess but I saw the nutcracker once and was hooked. First ballet, until my toes bled. Then the music. I’d play and my grandmother would have me soak my hands in warm water for the cramps. 

I thought I’d be one of the greats.

But practice can only do so much if there’s no natural talent to develop,” I shrugged. 

“Well maybe I’m just a country bumpkin, but I think you play wonderfully,” Debbie would say, before making me come eat. 

It was nice. 

Of course it wouldn’t last.  

*

Donald was talking with Debbie by the time I came out. It was half past eight. Debbie was an early riser. Up before six. 

I stumbled. Shit. I was beyond fucked. 

Debbie looked over at me, “This gentleman came here looking for you. Says he’s a friend.” Her mouth is hard pressed for once, clearly suspicious. 

Donald glanced over at me, “I’ve been so worried about you Mikaela. You disappeared. Couldn’t help but think the worst.” His eyes were flat, and arms crossed over his chest. 

If I screamed, would he kill us both? 

I needed to protect Debbie. So I offered him a smile, letting some tears fall. It was surprising how easy them came. “Yeah, Don’s an old friend,” I told Debbie. 

“Well then,” Debbie said, “I’ll let you two talk. Holler if you need anything.”

We both nodded. 

She left and I refused to look at Donald, knowing he’d follow me back to my room. I could feel his presence behind me. It was easier too miss him when he wasn’t there threatening to kill me. 

My heart still leaped with bittersweetness anyway.

Neither of us sat. 

Don locked the door behind us, hooking the chain in place as well. 

Shit.

Now that I studied him, he looked rough. His lip was busted, a bruise blossoming on his forehead. Stubble had formed a beard by now. Bags under his eyes. Hair disheveled. No wonder Debbie had been so skeptical. 

The tattoo probably didn’t help. 

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. 

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the sting. “Just kill me already.” I could’t bare the suspense. 

“Oh believe me baby,” he snorted, “I’d love too. But I’m not here to kill you.” He looked around the room. It was empty. I only had two pairs of jean. Some old shirts Debbie had given me, and the jacket I was wearing. 

“I’d rather die then tell you anything.”

Don rolled his eyes, sighing, running his hands through his hair, before sitting down on the bed. He looked up at me with his piercing gaze, weighing his words carefully, “Did you even love me, or was it all just an act.”

It hurt more than anything that he could even think that. I wanted to comfort him. Wrap my arms around him, kiss him like nothing else mattered. But that wasn’t possible. “Does it matter.”

He smirked, shrugging, “The brats made it across the boarder.”

My eyes widening in surprise. I sank to my knees in relief, limp on the floor, hands grasping my hair. “Oh thank god,” I whispered. I felt raw and light with relief. Rictor was free. Rictor was okay. 

Rictor. Gideon. Bobby. Charlotte. Rebecca. Delilah. Laura. Jamaica. And- 

They had made it. 

It had been worth it. 

“Rice is dead. But so is old Wolverine.”

“Then why are you here,” I muttered, looking up at him, voice choked with emotion. 

“Your boy sent me. Spared me.” He shrugged. “Wanted me too find mommy dearest.”

I scowled. 

“Oh don’t scowl baby, it’ll give you wrinkles.”

“Get to the point,” I muttered. It no longer mattered what he did to me. They were safe, and out of Transigens reach. 

“The other nurses killed themselves. Clever. So why isn’t you?” Don looked up at me, his features mocking. “Now I have a theory. I think you couldn’t do it. I think-“

“Oh believe me I did. I wasn’t going to give the satisfaction of killing me,” I spat. “Debbie called the ambulance. Had my stomach pumped. But I did!”

Shaking his finger, Don smiled, “No need to get so feisty baby. We’re just talking. Having a nice civil conversation.”

“Fuck you.”

He chuckled. 

“Fuck you you fucking fuck,” I said shaking, standing over him. Amusement colored his features and then-

Then he was kissing my, pulling me against him. His fingers dug into my skin, a pleasurable pain. I kissed him back, roughly. Our lips clashing against each other, my hands on his chest. I hated him so much. I loved him, still. 

He tugged my shirt over my head, and tailed kisses onto my skin, all teeth. There was nothing soft about him. All hard edges and sweat and the smell of rich earth and he was shoving me down against the mattress, unbuckling his trousers. 

“I hate you,” I hissed, pulling him against me, nipping at his collarbone. “I do.” You can only hate someone you love and I loved him to the very core. 

“Shut the fuck up baby,” he spat, “always with that mouth of yours.” 

I pressed my hips against his, gripping at his hair, pulling him against me, making him moan. Load moans against my skin. His head tilted back, eyes closed, my name on his lips. 

Boxes hastily shoved off, he slid into me, hips thrusting hard against mine as his hands wrapped around my neck. My eyes opened in surprise at the pressure. 

Don’s eyes were cold. 

I stroked his cheek. Soft smiled on my lips even as he kept a steady pace, pushing into me, hard and fast, and I loved this man. 

The pressure on around my neck tightened, and black spots danced in my eyes. And I came against him, my eye closing in pleasure, lips parting to moan his name. What a fucked up pair we made. Or maybe I was the messed up one, for caring about him. 

My breathes were short and sharp, burning for more air, air I couldn’t take in. I opened my eyes, forcing him to look at me, when he did it. 

We gazed at one another. 

Don let go of my neck, wrapping his arms around me, falling against me, lips against my ear as he came. “I love you Mikaela. I do. I don’t care that you don’t,” he whispered. “I wanted you since the day you ignored me and gave the coffee I brought you to Sofia. Do you remember? God,” he mumbled, “that was so long ago now.”

I caressed his back, enjoying the feel of his body against mine. 

“Only you.”

“I wanted it to you. I wanted to see you one last time,” I admitted to him. “Just once more before I died. I didn’t mean to. It just happened. I love you. But it had to be done. It was wrong. And I had to.

I still love you.

But fuck Don. You killed my grandmother. The woman who raised me,” I paused, gently even now. “I need time. I love you but I need time. You don’t get to-it doesn’t just go away.”

Don shifted, resting on his elbows, looking at me. “Mikaela. I love you. I do. Still.”

I swallowed, then replied, “Then give me time.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thoughts?


	12. they don't love you like i love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut warning.

Donald and Debbie were both early risers. Up before the crack of dawn. Up a long time before I forced myself out of bed and went to find something to clean. Something to keep my body busy while my thoughts jumped all over the place. 

Don hung around, charming the pants off Debbie with coffee and donuts, and hovering over me like an annoying gnat. While I ran my hand raw scrubbing at stains from the cold war, Don lazed about, toying with his enhancement. Grin on his lips. 

I wanted to hit him. 

At first, when my blood was running hot, it seemed simple. Everything was done. There was nothing else left. It was over. And I wanted him. I still did. His touch and soft lips on mine. Tacky chain and all. 

But it wasn’t true. 

It wasn’t over. Transigen was still out there. Rictor was still out there. People had died and Don was waiting for me to forgive him like I was supposed to. He hadn’t even said he was sorry. It should be him on his knees after all this shit. 

For all I knew, he wasn’t sorry. Donald had never shown any sign of seeing the children as anything other than things and no matter how much I cared for him, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be with him. 

Here, it was easy to pretend that we could just ignore the rest of the world. And we could. We could turn a blind eye. But I couldn’t turn my back on Rictor and Laura and Delilah and-

It scared me. 

I was on the verge of losing him again. 

If we talked and he said the wrong thing-

I had so little left. I wanted more time. There never seemed to be enough. It was never the right time. 

We seemed to have met in the darkest timeline. 

So I scrubbed at linoleum tiles until my skin cracked from the bleach, arms aching from constant strain. 

I collapsed into bed every night, exhausted, too tired to think. 

My door closed, wanting Donald. Wanting Don to stop being such a dick for once. 

It didn’t seem likely to happen anytime soon. 

And if it wasn’t the right time, then I would make it the right time. 

*

It wasn’t so much about cornering Don as waiting for him to stop spewing bullshit comments, trying to get a rise out of me like a little boy pulling on pigtails. 

“You never spent that much time on your knees for me,” he pouted. 

I rolled my eyes, not caring that he couldn’t see from where I was crouched down, getting a tucked away corner and trying not to think about what the yellow stain might be.  

Years of nursing had given me a strong stomach and the ability to get blood and other bodily fluid out of almost anything. It came in handy. 

“Now I am nothing if not a gentleman, so I’d return the favor.”

I swallowed, heat rising to my cheeks. 

It was all about going for it. Once I started, I wouldn’t be able to stop. 

Rip the band-aid off. 

“Did you kill my grandmother.”

It shut him up quick. 

Strained, I repeated, “Did you kill her Donald?”

“You think I torture old ladies now?” His shit eating grin intact as usual.

“You have no problem hurting children,” I spat. It was all coming out now. Anger hot and choked in my throat. 

“But they’re aren’t really children. No. They’re just mutants so who cares. Drag them around like animals. You wouldn’t even treat a dog like that you piece of shit. Why chase them? Not like you were going to use them. Can’t make them weapons after all! Jesus Fucking Christ Donald!

They were kids! 

You were going to kill them! 

You did kill them!

Fuck. Fuck,” I heaved, breath short and heavy. 

“What the hell is wrong with you! What’s wrong with me? Jesus Christ this is sick. Because I love you, you fucking asshole. Even now. But none of that will matters.”

Shuddering, I finished, “You better be fucking sorry. Truly fucking sorry. And even then, it won’t even begin to fix things. But I won’t have you if you aren’t sorry. I don’t care how much it hurts. I won’t.” 

_I love you but you’re a terrible person._

“So you better be fucking sorry,” I cried. 

He was serious for once. Eyebrows drawn together as he ran his hand through his hair. 

Don held my gaze as he spoke, “She’s dead.”

He paused, taking a deep breathe before elaborating. 

“Shot Gabriela myself. All the nurses and _children_ who didn’t escape.

And your grandmother-“

My heart caught in my throat. 

“Collateral,” he sighed, shoulders slumping as he looked at me. 

My legs gave out from under me, a whimper escaping my throat. 

“I hated you. You betrayed me and I hated you and I wanted to hurt you Mikaela. I wanted to wrap my hands around your throat and watch you die.”

Each word was like a stab through my chest. 

“And no, I didn’t care. I never thought twice about whether it was wrong or right,” Don buried his head in his hands, “I have hated mutants for so long. Abominations. Less then human. Not even losing a tooth for mouthing off, saying mutie, ever stopped me. I was right and I never doubted it.”

Knife twisting in my heart, I couldn’t look away from him. 

He had fucked me with every intent of killing me. 

“I love you Mikaela. I do. I couldn’t kill you. No matter how much I wanted to,” he sighed. “And if I’m alive now it’s only because mutants had mercy on me when I had none for them. 

They spared me. Rictor let me live. Not for me. 

God knows I don’t deserve it. 

But for you.” 

He closed his eyes, letting out a heavy breath. 

Donald carefully made his way over to me, kneeling down besides me. “Baby I love you, and I’m going to spend the rest of my life learning what the right thing is. 

But I understand if you never want to see me again. I’m kind of a fucking dick,” he finished, smiling bitterly. 

I raised my hand slowly, stroking his cheek. 

I loved him. Donald Pierce had slipped his way into my very core while I was too busy hating his stupid face. 

In my heart, I had already forgiven him. I hadn’t even had to think about it. 

But I knew we had a long way to go. 

He had a long way to go. But if he was willing to change, 

I placed a small kiss at the corner of his mouth, whispering against his skin, “You are such a fucking dick.”

He smirked, the usual sharpness gone, replaced by anticipation and a softness he only wore in the morning when he thought I was still asleep. 

Don pressed his lips against mine, tenderly kiss me, hands drawing me down against the floor, letting him hover over me. I might live to regret this. But here with him, I didn't care. 

He drew down, trailing kisses down my neck as he went, hands on my hips, tracing the sliver of exposed skin. He unbuttoned my jeans, smiling up at me, before pulling my jeans down. 

Don placed a kiss on each hipbone, fingers running over my panties, metal cold against the inside of my thigh.

"So fucking wet for me baby," he smirked. 

"Shut up," I snapped, skin feverish from pooling desire.

I felt tense and hot with anticipation, my fingers bunched up in his blonde hair. My toes curled up in my cheap used sneakers. 

Don pressed on last teasing kiss against the dampness of my panties before pulling them down with his teeth, breath warm against my center. His metal hand dug into the flesh of my thigh as he ran his tongue against my pussy. 

I whimpered his name. 

He nipped at the sensitive flesh, causing me to pull at his hair. It was all too much. I was hot and wanting more. I wanted him to stop teasing as he ran his tongue against my pussy, thumb rubbing against my clint. 

My eyes were squeezed tight as the pressure built. Moans and whimpers. I was heady with the feel of him. His wet tongue kissing and nipping at my flesh, biting down on my inner thigh as his fingers teased me, not quite dipping in. 

I whined, wanted release. Wanting anything to take the pressure off. My hips cantered up to his touch, hungry for him. 

Don laughed, "where's that big mouth of yours now." 

Barely about to respond, I moaned his name incoherently as he slipped his fingers into me. Rubbing against me, making sure to stroke my clint with his other hand, metal now warm. 

My breaths were hot and heavy as Donald drew his fingers against me. 

Eyes squeezed tightly, I bit down, trying to hold back. 

He pulled his hands away, using them to dig into my hips, fingers digging into my skin, keeping me still. 

Small whines escaped my lips. 

He snorted before kissing my folds and running his tongue against me, warm breath hitting my core, stubble burning my pussy. 

I came, lost in the heat and pleasure, mumbling his name like a prayer. 

When he came up to kiss me, face full of love and tenderness, I could still taste myself on his lips. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be the last. will probably be out before monday but im not sure. just to be clear, its not just that he loves mikaela. its also being spared by the kids hes abused for so long that plays into donald turning over a new leaf. but love certainly plays into it i think. thoughts?


	13. new world in my view.

It was sunny and cold and Debbie hugged me tightly after a thousand reassurances that I would keep in touch. There were cupcakes in the car that she had made this morning and I wondered if I would ever see her again. 

“Don’t be a stranger Mikaela,” she repeated. “Mi casa es su casa,” she said in very rough spanish. 

I nodded, heart heavy. 

She had taken me in when she didn’t have to. There were still good people in the world. It was not all bleak and hopeless.

“Yes,” I replied, “I’ll call you for sure and stop by if I’m in town of even come visit once I get settled.”

She hugged me again. 

In these last few days, I had lost pretty much everyone in my life. 

Don squeezed my hand, face serious for once. 

We were headed for Canada. I had to see the children. I had to know that they were all right. I had to see Rictor with my own eyes. 

Don would get us past the boarder. From there, it was anyones guess where they had gone. 

But I had all the time in the world. 

I had all the time in the world to figure what was going on between us. To fix things. 

We wouldn’t be able to stay. I knew that even as we got on the highway. Not after everything Don had done to my-the kids. 

But I needed to see them. 

One step at a time. 

I didn’t have any concrete plans. But I knew what I wanted. 

Don. Rictor. Laura. Delilah. 

All the people I still had left. 

Somehow, I knew it would work out. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the best i could do. a short sweet ending. i think this will be the last donald pierce fanfic i write. thank you all so much for sticking around.


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